Now I understand the sin that burdens my house
like an ancestral moss.
Oh, why did I ever interpret the time and the zodiac
other than the old village woman soaking the flax in the pond?
Why did I want a different smile than the stonemason’s
chipping away at the rock by the wayside?
Why did I aspire to a different fate
in the space of seven days
other than the bell ringer’s leading the dead to heaven?
Passerby, give me your hand, you who are going
and you too who are returning.
All the flocks of the universe are bearing a halo
over their heads.
Now, this is how I see myself:
one amongst many others
as I shake off my body
like a dog coming out of a cursed river.
Let my blood run in the gutters of the universe,
to spin the waterwheels
of heavenly mills!

I am bursting with joy
all day-long, in the sky above me,
the winged powers are aiming their triangles
towards light.